


Spill

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 04:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Legolas comforts his sullen songbird.





	Spill

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for LoveLindir’s “10. "just leave me alone" with Lindir and Legolas, something fluffy.” request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/) [from this list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/160417565360/prompt-list).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The first two knocks are ignored, but on the third, Lindir’s soft voice calls through the wooden door, “Legolas, please... just... leave me alone.” The very fact that he uses no title makes his exasperation plain. Under normal circumstances, Lindir is reverent to a fault.

Today has proven an exception. Earlier, when Legolas tried to enter and was spurned, for the first time in this relationship if not his entire adult life, he slunk away in bewildered depression.

He’s since sought out answers, and he replies curtly, “I have heard what happened from my guards. I know now that your robes were ruined this morning, and you do not wish to attend the feast with what you deem an unworthy appearance.” He pauses, waiting for confirmation, but neither that nor denial meets him. He finishes into the silence, “I have brought you new robes, my Lindir, as beautiful as I could find, though I fear they will fall short of the wearer’s loveliness. You are a difficult lover to shop for.”

There’s still no response. Legolas waits, his head leant against the polished surface, one hand splayed beside the handle and the other totting the bundled robes. Lavender and lilac, they sparkle with woven strands of silver and carved crystals. He longs to see Lindir in them, and he murmurs quietly, “Lindir... _please._ ”

He hears a muffled sigh, and finally, the door cricks open. Legolas pulls back, only to slip quickly inside before Lindir can change his mind. Legolas isn’t surprised to find Lindir’s eyes rimmed red, his delicate lips in a sunken frown. He wears bathing robes synched loosely about his waist, white and unadorned. Head hung and hair disheveled, Lindir shuts the door again, then turns to stroll towards the bed. He takes his seat on it without ever meeting Legolas’ gaze. Legolas comes to within an arm’s length away. He does want to respect Lindir’s wish for privacy, but he also has no desire to leave Lindir alone in a time of need, as he knows that Lindir would never willingly ask help of him. Lindir frets over rank and station far too much for that, though Legolas insists that they’re equals. Lindir doesn’t seem to believe it.

Lindir shakes his tired-looking head and mumbles, “I am... sorry, my prince. But... I am not trying to push you away merely because I do not look good enough for you. Indeed, I have never looked anywhere near your beauty, but I had hoped to serve you in other ways, and I was greatly honoured by your acceptance of me.”

Legolas opens his mouth, ready to insist that Lindir is more than attractive enough for him. But then he thinks better of it, because it’s hard enough to coax Lindir into speaking frankly, and he shuts his mouth again, wanting to let Lindir finish. 

Sure enough, Lindir shakes his head and admits, “The incident made me realize that I am _not_ good enough for you, in far more than just looks. I am... inadequate. In every way, but for you especially, for you are a fierce warrior, as strong as you are graceful, and the spiders that attacked me you could have slew in a single breath. I could barely even keep my wits about me. I simply ran, and fell, and cowered in the dirt like an animal. I was not even far from palace—only out collecting herbs for my Lord Elrond when we return to Imladris. Yet, if your guards had not leapt to my rescue, I would surely have been killed, and there would be none to blame but my own weakness.”

“Lindir...” Legolas murmurs, momentarily at a loss for words. The guards didn’t tell him that much—only that Lindir had gone for a short walk in the woods, taken a spill, and stained his robes. Legolas can guess why; the guards must have not wanted to worry their prince. Legolas’ heart sinks at the thought of Lindir’s terror, and he bitterly wishes he’d been there. He _knows_ that the Imladris delegation is not as hearty as his people. He should’ve protected Lindir.

He sinks to his knees and sets aside the robes on the rug, so that he can use both hands to place on Lindir’s legs. It’s necessary to sink so low in order to catch Lindir’s eye, and now he holds it fast, refusing to let Lindir turn away from him again. He whispers, “I am sorry...”

“I am a fool—”

Legolas lunges up, catching Lindir’s soft cheek and pressing into his lips, stifling the usual self-deprecation. Lindir’s never seemed to know his value. Legolas lingers until he’s sure that Lindir’s felt his love, and then he pulls back, still clutching Lindir’s face in his hands. He insists, “You are _not_. That is what I love about you, darling. You are gentle and sweet, too fair for these fell woods. I only wish I could offer you a realm so peaceful as you deserve, but on these visits, I will not leave you again, I promise. If you wish to venture forth, you need only ask, and I will go with you. I will protect you. I wish to, and you must promise to let me.” Lindir’s eyes waver, wide and sad, the ends near tears. 

This was supposed to be a happy day. Legolas licks his lips and tries to divert it, murmuring, “You must come with me to the feast, Lindir. I have been looking forward to having you on my arm since you first set foot in the Greenwood. Please, do not deny me this.”

Lindir lets out a choked little laugh, then shakes his head in Legolas’ grip. But his shoulders slump, his slender fingers coming to catch Legolas’ sleeves. In a broken voice, he answers around a timid smile, “How could I deny my prince anything?”

Legolas beams. He kisses Lindir’s cheek, only to withdraw and fetch the robes he brought. When he stands, he unfurls them, holding them out. Lindir lets out a little gasp, awe coming across his handsome features. He reaches tentatively out to feel the silken fabric. He whispers, “The are _beautiful_...”

“Only the best for my songbird,” Legolas replies. He passes them into Lindir’s waiting arms, and Lindir looks up at him with a heartbreaking smile. Legolas basks in it and knows this is the other reason he loves his Lindir so; even outside of song, there is art in everything that Lindir touches. It’s worth more to Legolas than all his father’s gems. 

Lindir rises from the bed, only to wrap Legolas in his arms. They share a tight embrace, and then Lindir turns to change.


End file.
